Queen of Blood and Vengeance (Secrets of the Faerie Crown #4)

13. Veyka

13

VEYKA

I longed to linger in the void, to reach for one of those realms that I’d begun to sense just beyond. Beyond what, I could not exactly say. Only that they felt as real to me as the cutlery on the table at a meal. All I had to do was reach out and I could touch them. But exploring those other realms was a dream for another time. Maybe no time.

Instead, I landed beside my husband where he stood barking orders in Eilean Gayl’s outer bailey. With Osheen and Elora’s help, he’d assembled a combined force of terrestrial and elemental warriors. For now, they were divided into two units, each commanded by their own lieutenant. I knew it rankled him; he’d spent three hundred years learning how to balance powers to create the strongest possible fighting force, and splitting the elementals and terrestrials apart went against every instinct he had.

My Talisman swallowed up the weak sunlight. I was the only elemental who’d ever borne one. We were still a kingdom divided.

“Are they in place?” Arran asked without looking at me.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “I am going to scout the survivors’ camp now. Will you be ready when I return?”

I felt Arran’s tension at the same time that the low rumble reverberated in my chest. His chest, actually. But we might as well have been one.

Do not engage, his beast growled.

They are my subjects. That did not mean they were harmless. They could not be to have survived this long. But I would not allow myself to fear them.

Do not make me chain you to my side .

There were no chains in evidence, but the clench of his fist was enough for me to imagine. You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Having me completely at your mercy?

The growl in my mind turned absolutely feral.

I clenched my thighs together, lest the dozens of warriors assembled scent the need building between my legs. Having Arran back, body and mind, had unleashed something within me. That physical need had always been a constant demand; now, it was like breathing. I wanted him fucking me morning, noon, and night. And a few times in between.

Fuck.

I’d meant to distract him from worrying and instead I’d managed to work myself up into a burning ball of need.

Fuck.

I grabbed him to me, reveling in the gasps of surprise from the terrestrials. The elementals were naturally better at covering their reactions. The residents of Eilean Gayl ought to have expected it by now. Arran had fucked me right in front of them at the head of the Great Hall in the aftermath of the succubus attack.

But their reactions were secondary once I had Arran’s tongue in my mouth. Ancestors, he tasted amazing. The deep earthy flavor of him mingled with the tang of wine he’d sipped at his last meal, melding into an intoxicating mix I could not stop myself from devouring.

I took and took with no thought of comfort or reassurance. I caught his tongue between my teeth, scoring a deep line down the side of it so I could taste the coppery tang of his blood in my mouth. He caught my lower lip, getting in a bite of his own. Then our blood mingled together. I could taste the magic, the combined power of us. If I let this go on a moment longer, I’d mount him right here—

I shoved myself back, several feet between us that felt like nothing. It would take continents to separate me from my mate.

“An hour,” I said, making a show of licking our blood off my lips.

Arran growled and I disappeared with a laugh.

Another step through the void that felt like nothing and I was in the mountains perched high above the Effren Valley.

The young female’s report indicated I should begin my search near the Blasted Pass. The survivors were heading away from Baylaur, and therefore so was I.

But I could not stop myself. I had to look.

From the distance, everything appeared normal. A few pillars of smoke rose from Baylaur itself, but that was not unusual for a city of its size. The goldstone palace gleamed, its tall spires swirling up towards the sky completely unmarred. There was no way of knowing that the inside was coated with black. The most startling difference was seeing it in the bright sunlight, rather than under the silvery-white light of the moon.

I’d only ever snuck this far from the palace under the cover of night. When we left to search for Avalon, we’d gone through the rift to the human realm well before reaching this side of the mountains.

The urge to go down into the city itself pushed in on my mind. I could go see for myself. Search for any survivors. An hour was more than enough time to find the camps in the mountains, using the void rather than traveling on foot. If I could save a few—

I might end up dooming many.

Every moment the survivors in the mountains were left alone became more perilous. They needed amorite and information. They needed their queen.

I forced myself to turn my back on my city.

It took me less than fifteen minutes to find them.

Which was fortunate, because I knew upon sight that it would take all of my remaining time to convince them to come with me.

The smell of fear was so strong it was a wonder that the succubus had not found them by that alone. If the succubus could smell at all. We knew they came for males while they slept, but we did not know what attracted them to one male over another. Or what attracted them to me in particular.

This had to be done fast. The thought had lingered in my mind—had my presence in Eilean Gayl drawn the succubus to those insurgent males who’d refused the amorite? Were their deaths on my hands as well?

I pushed back that thought.

The weight of my kingdom was already on my shoulders. Any more and I might break.

I gave myself exactly five minutes to make my observations and formulate a plan—one that would fit within the larger one Gwen and Arran had already crafted.

In an hour, I must open the rift from here to Eilean Gayl and bring the troops through. It was too dangerous to attempt to move a group of any size without amorite-armed warriors on hand. One succubus would be all it took to kill dozens of civilians. The crystal in my pocket had not warmed, which must mean that Gwen and Lyrena were making progress with the humans in Eldermist, preparing to receive the refugees.

I identified the patrols—two figures on each edge of the roughly rectangular camp, patrolling in an overlapping pattern. There were only a few fires. Communal meeting places that had probably sprung up naturally. This was roughly the location that the young female elemental had described; which meant they weren’t moving around, at least not anymore. This camp was relatively stable. Small mercies.

But for all of that, the movements of the civilians were erratic. Very few emerged from their makeshift tents and those that did ran from place to place. And I would have recognized the scent that clung to the air, even in my dreams. The succubus had been here, and now they were fuel for those fires.

At least they’d figured something out.

I sucked in a breath—not too deep, or I’d gag—and started down into the camp on foot. A queen coming to her subjects. I hoped they’d have me.